Chapter XXIX: Brussels

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　Mr. Jos had hired a pair of horses for his open carriage,with which cattle, and the smart London vehicle, he madea very tolerable figure in the drives about Brussels.George purchased a horse for his private riding, andhe and Captain Dobbin would often accompany thecarriage in which Jos and his sister took daily excursionsof pleasure. They went out that day in the park for theiraccustomed diversion, and there, sure enough, George'sremark with regard to the arrival of Rawdon Crawley andhis wife proved to be correct. In the midst of a littletroop of horsemen, consisting of some of the very greatestpersons in Brussels, Rebecca was seen in the prettiestand tightest of riding-habits, mounted on a beautifullittle Arab, which she rode to perfection (having acquiredthe art at Queen's Crawley, where the Baronet, Mr.Pitt, and Rawdon himself had given her many lessons),and by the side of the gallant General Tufto.

　　"Sure it's the Juke himself," cried Mrs. Major O'Dowdto Jos, who began to blush violently; "and that's LordUxbridge on the bay. How elegant he looks! Me brother,Molloy Malony, is as like him as two pays."

　　Rebecca did not make for the carriage; but as soonas she perceived her old acquaintance Amelia seated init, acknowledged her presence by a gracious nod andsmile, and by kissing and shaking her fingers playfullyin the direction of the vehicle. Then she resumed herconversation with General Tufto, who asked "who thefat officer was in the gold-laced cap?" on which Beckyreplied, "that he was an officer in the East Indian service."But Rawdon Crawley rode out of the ranks of hiscompany, and came up and shook hands heartily withAmelia, and said to Jos, "Well, old boy, how are you?"and stared in Mrs. O'Dowd's face and at.the black cock'sfeathers until she began to think she had made aconquest of him.

　　George, who had been delayed behind, rode up almostimmediately with Dobbin, and they touched their caps tothe august personages, among whom Osborne at onceperceived Mrs. Crawley. He was delighted to see Rawdonleaning over his carriage familiarly and talking to Amelia,and met the aide-de-camp's cordial greeting with morethan corresponding warmth. The nods between Rawdonand Dobbin were of the very faintest specimens ofpoliteness.

　　Crawley told George where they were stopping withGeneral Tufto at the Hotel du Parc, and George madehis friend promise to come speedily to Osborne's ownresidence. "Sorry I hadn't seen you three days ago,"George said. "Had a dinner at the Restaurateur's--rather anice thing. Lord Bareacres, and the Countess, and LadyBlanche, were good enough to dine with us--wish we'dhad you." Having thus let his friend know his claims to bea man of fashion, Osborne parted from Rawdon, whofollowed the august squadron down an alley into whichthey cantered, while George and Dobbin resumed theirplaces, one on each side of Amelia's carriage.

　　"How well the Juke looked," Mrs. O'Dowd remarked."The Wellesleys and Malonys are related; but, of course,poor I would never dream of introjuicing myself unlesshis Grace thought proper to remember our family-tie."

　　"He's a great soldier," Jos said, much more at easenow the great man was gone. "Was there ever a battlewon like Salamanca? Hey, Dobbin? But where was it helearnt his art? In India, my boy! The jungle's the schoolfor a general, mark me that. I knew him myself, too,Mrs. O'Dowd: we both of us danced the same eveningwith Miss Cutler, daughter of Cutler of the Artillery, anda devilish fine girl, at Dumdum."

　　The apparition of the great personages held themall in talk during the drive; and at dinner; and until thehour came when they were all to go to the Opera.

　　It was almost like Old England. The house was filledwith familiar British faces, and those toilettes for whichthe British female has long been celebrated. Mrs.O'Dowd's was not the least splendid amongst these, andshe had a curl on her forehead, and a set of Irish diamondsand Cairngorms, which outshone all the decorationsin the house, in her notion. Her presence used toexcruciate Osborne; but go she would upon all parties ofpleasure on which she heard her young friends were bent.It never entered into her thought but that they must becharmed with her company.

　　"She's been useful to you, my dear," George said tohis wife, whom he could leave alone with less scruplewhen she had this society. "But what a comfort it is thatRebecca's come: you will have her for a friend, and wemay get rid now of this damn'd Irishwoman." To thisAmelia did not answer, yes or no: and how do we knowwhat her thoughts were?

　　The coup d'oeil of the Brussels opera-house did notstrike Mrs. O'Dowd as being so fine as the theatre inFishamble Street, Dublin, nor was French music at allequal, in her opinion, to the melodies of her native country.She favoured her friends with these and other opinionsin a very loud tone of voice, and tossed about agreat clattering fan she sported, with the most splendidcomplacency.

　　"Who is that wonderful woman with Amelia, Rawdon,love?" said a lady in an opposite box (who, almost alwayscivil to her husband in private, was more fond thanever of him in company).

　　"Don't you see that creature with a yellow thing inher turban, and a red satin gown, and a great watch?"

　　"Near the pretty little woman in white?" asked amiddle-aged gentleman seated by the querist's side, withorders in his button, and several under-waistcoats, anda great, choky, white stock.

　　"That pretty woman in white is Amelia, General: youare remarking all the pretty women, you naughty man."

　　"Only one, begad, in the world!" said the General, delighted,and the lady gave him a tap with a large bouquetwhich she had.

　　"Bedad it's him," said Mrs. O'Dowd; "and that's thevery bokay he bought in the Marshy aux Flures!" andwhen Rebecca, having caught her friend's eye, performedthe little hand-kissing operation once more, Mrs. MajorO'D., taking the compliment to herself, returned the salutewith a gracious smile, which sent that unfortunateDobbin shrieking out of the box again.

　　At the end of the act, George was out of the box in amoment, and he was even going to pay his respects toRebecca in her loge. He met Crawley in the lobby, however,where they exchanged a few sentences upon theoccurrences of the last fortnight.

　　"You found my cheque all right at the agent's?George said, with a knowing air.

　　"All right, my boy," Rawdon answered. "Happy to giveyou your revenge. Governor come round?"

　　"Not yet," said George, "but he will; and you know I'vesome private fortune through my mother. Has Auntyrelented?"

　　"Sent me twenty pound, damned old screw. When shallwe have a meet? The General dines out on Tuesday.Can't you come Tuesday? I say, make Sedley cut off hismoustache. What the devil does a civilian mean with amoustache and those infernal frogs to his coat! By-bye.Try and come on Tuesday"; and Rawdon was going-offwith two brilliant young gentlemen of fashion, who were,like himself, on the staff of a general officer.

　　George was only half pleased to be asked to dinner onthat particular day when the General was not to dine. "Iwill go in and pay my respects to your wife," said he; atwhich Rawdon said, "Hm, as you please," looking veryglum, and at which the two young officers exchangedknowing glances. George parted from them and strutteddown the lobby to the General's box, the number of whichhe had carefully counted.

　　"Entrez," said a clear little voice, and our friend foundhimself in Rebecca's presence; who jumped up, clappedher hands together, and held out both of them to George,so charmed was she to see him. The General, with theorders in his button, stared at the newcomer with a sulkyscowl, as much as to say, who the devil are you?

　　"My dear Captain George!" cried little Rebecca in anecstasy. "How good of you to come. The General and Iwere moping together tete-a-tete. General, this is myCaptain George of whom you heard me talk."

　　"Indeed," said the General, with a very small bow; "ofwhat regiment is Captain George?"

　　George mentioned the --th: how he wished he couldhave said it was a crack cavalry corps.

　　"Come home lately from the West Indies, I believe.Not seen much service in the late war. Quartered here,Captain George?"--the General went on with killinghaughtiness.

　　"Not Captain George, you stupid man; Captain Osborne,"Rebecca said. The General all the while was lookingsavagely from one to the other.

　　"Captain Osborne, indeed! Any relation to the L--Osbornes?"

　　"We bear the same arms," George said, as indeed wasthe fact; Mr. Osborne having consulted with a herald inLong Acre, and picked the L-- arms out of the peerage,when he set up his carriage fifteen years before. TheGeneral made no reply to this announcement; but tookup his opera-glass--the double-barrelled lorgnon was notinvented in those days--and pretended to examine thehouse; but Rebecca saw that his disengaged eye wasworking round in her direction, and shooting outbloodshot glances at her and George.

　　She redoubled in cordiality. "How is dearest Amelia?But I needn't ask: how pretty she looks! And who is thatnice good-natured looking creature with her--a flame ofyours? O, you wicked men! And there is Mr. Sedleyeating ice, I declare: how he seems to enjoy it! General, whyhave we not had any ices?"

　　"Shall I go and fetch you some?" said the General,bursting with wrath.

　　"Let me go, I entreat you," George said.

　　"No, I will go to Amelia's box. Dear, sweet girl! Giveme your arm, Captain George"; and so saying, and with anod to the General, she tripped into the lobby. She gaveGeorge the queerest, knowingest look, when they weretogether, a look which might have been interpreted,"Don't you see the state of affairs, and what a fool I'mmaking of him?" But he did not perceive it. He wasthinking of his own plans, and lost in pompous admirationof his own irresistible powers of pleasing.

　　The curses to which the General gave a low utterance,as soon as Rebecca and her conqueror had quitted him,were so deep, that I am sure no compositor wouldventure to print them were they written down. They camefrom the General's heart; and a wonderful thing it is tothink that the human heart is capable of generating suchproduce, and can throw out, as occasion demands, sucha supply of lust and fury, rage and hatred.

　　Amelia's gentle eyes, too, had been fixed anxiously onthe pair, whose conduct had so chafed the jealous General;but when Rebecca entered her box, she flew to herfriend with an affectionate rapture which showed itself, inspite of the publicity of the place; for she embraced herdearest friend in the presence of the whole house, at leastin full view of the General's glass, now brought to bearupon the Osborne party. Mrs. Rawdon saluted Jos, too,with the kindliest greeting: she admired Mrs. O'Dowd'slarge Cairngorm brooch and superb Irish diamonds, andwouldn't believe that they were not from Golconda direct.She bustled, she chattered, she turned and twisted,and smiled upon one, and smirked on another, all in fullview of the jealous opera-glass opposite. And when thetime for the ballet came (in which there was no dancerthat went through her grimaces or performed her comedyof action better), she skipped back to her own box, leaningon Captain Dobbin's arm this time. No, she wouldnot have George's: he must stay and talk to his dearest,best, little Amelia.

　　"What a humbug that woman is!" honest old Dobbinmumbled to George, when he came back from Rebecca'sbox, whither he had conducted her in perfect silence, andwith a countenance as glum as an undertaker's. "Shewrithes and twists about like a snake. All the time shewas here, didn't you see, George, how she was acting atthe General over the way?"

　　"Humbug--acting! Hang it, she's the nicest littlewoman in England," George replied, showing his whiteteeth, and giving his ambrosial whiskers a twirl. "Youain't a man of the world, Dobbin. Dammy, look at hernow, she's talked over Tufto in no time. Look how he'slaughing! Gad, what a shoulder she has! Emmy, whydidn't you have a bouquet? Everybody has a bouquet."

　　"Faith, then, why didn't you boy one?" Mrs. O'Dowdsaid; and both Amelia and William Dobbin thanked herfor this timely observation. But beyond this neither ofthe ladies rallied. Amelia was overpowered by the flashand the dazzle and the fashionable talk of her worldly rival.Even the O'Dowd was silent and subdued after Becky'sbrilliant apparition, and scarcely said a word more aboutGlenmalony all the evening.

　　"When do you intend to give up play, George, as youhave promised me, any time these hundred years?" Dobbinsaid to his friend a few days after the night at theOpera. "When do you intend to give up sermonising?"was the other's reply. "What the deuce, man, are youalarmed about? We play low; I won last night. Youdon't suppose Crawley cheats? With fair play it comesto pretty much the same thing at the year's end."

　　"But I don't think he could pay if he lost," Dobbinsaid; and his advice met with the success which adviceusually commands. Osborne and Crawley were repeatedlytogether now. General Tufto dined abroad almost constantly.George was always welcome in the apartments(very close indeed to those of the General) which theaide-de-camp and his wife occupied in the hotel.

　　Amelia's manners were such when she and George visitedCrawley and his wife at these quarters, that they hadvery nearly come to their first quarrel; that is, Georgescolded his wife violently for her evident unwillingness togo, and the high and mighty manner in which she comportedherself towards Mrs. Crawley, her old friend; andAmelia did not say one single word in reply; but with herhusband's eye upon her, and Rebecca scanning her as shefelt, was, if possible, more bashful and awkward on thesecond visit which she paid to Mrs. Rawdon, than on herfirst call.

　　Rebecca was doubly affectionate, of course, and wouldnot take notice, in the least, of her friend's coolness. "Ithink Emmy has become prouder since her father's namewas in the--since Mr. Sedley's misfortunes," Rebeccasaid, softening the phrase charitably for George's ear.

　　"Upon my word, I thought when we were at Brightonshe was doing me the honour to be jealous of me; andnow I suppose she is scandalised because Rawdon, and I,and the General live together. Why, my dear creature,how could we, with our means, live at all, but for a friendto share expenses? And do you suppose that Rawdon isnot big enough to take care of my honour? But I'm verymuch obliged to Emmy, very," Mrs. Rawdon said.

　　"Pooh, jealousy!" answered George, "all women arejealous."

　　"And all men too. Weren't you jealous of GeneralTufto, and the General of you, on the night of the Opera?Why, he was ready to eat me for going with you to visitthat foolish little wife of yours; as if I care a pin foreither of you," Crawley's wife said, with a pert toss ofher head. "Will you dine here? The dragon dines with theCommander-in-Chief. Great news is stirring. They saythe French have crossed the frontier. We shall have aquiet dinner."

　　George accepted the invitation, although his wife was alittle ailing. They were now not quite six weeks married.Another woman was laughing or sneering at her expense,and he not angry. He was not even angry with himself,this good-natured fellow. It is a shame, he owned to himself;but hang it, if a pretty woman will throw herself inyour way, why, what can a fellow do, you know? I amrather free about women, he had often said, smiling andnodding knowingly to Stubble and Spooney, and othercomrades of the mess-table; and they rather respectedhim than otherwise for this prowess. Next to conqueringin war, conquering in love has been a source of pride,time out of mind, amongst men in Vanity Fair, or howshould schoolboys brag of their amours, or Don Juan bepopular?

　　So Mr. Osborne, having a firm conviction in his ownmind that he was a woman-killer and destined to conquer,did not run counter to his fate, but yielded himselfup to it quite complacently. And as Emmy did not saymuch or plague him with her jealousy, but merely becameunhappy and pined over it miserably in secret, he choseto fancy that she was not suspicious of what all hisacquaintance were perfectly aware--namely, that he wascarrying on a desperate flirtation with Mrs. Crawley. Herode with her whenever she was free. He pretendedregimental business to Amelia (by which falsehood she wasnot in the least deceived), and consigning his wife tosolitude or her brother's society, passed his evenings inthe Crawleys' company; losing money to the husband andflattering himself that the wife was dying of love for him.It is very likely that this worthy couple never absolutelyconspired and agreed together in so many words: the oneto cajole the young gentleman, whilst the other won hismoney at cards: but they understood each other perfectlywell, and Rawdon let Osborne come and go with entiregood humour.

　　George was so occupied with his new acquaintancesthat he and William Dobbin were by no means so muchtogether as formerly. George avoided him in public andin the regiment, and, as we see, did not like thosesermons which his senior was disposed to inflict upon him.If some parts of his conduct made Captain Dobbinexceedingly grave and cool; of what use was it to tell Georgethat, though his whiskers were large, and his ownopinion of his knowingness great, he was as green as aschoolboy? that Rawdon was making a victim of him as he haddone of many before, and as soon as he had used himwould fling him off with scorn? He would not listen: andso, as Dobbin, upon those days when he visited the0sborne house, seldom had the advantage of meeting hisold friend, much painful and unavailing talk betweenthem was spared. Our friend George was in the full careerof the pleasures of Vanity Fair.

　　There never was, since the days of Darius, such a brillianttrain of camp-followers as hung round the Duke ofWellington's army in the Low Countries, in 1815; andled it dancing and feasting, as it were, up to the verybrink of battle. A certain ball which a noble Duchessgave at Brussels on the 15th of June in the above-namedyear is historical. All Brussels had been in a state ofexcitement about it, and I have heard from ladies whowere in that town at the period, that the talk and interestof persons of their own sex regarding the ball was muchgreater even than in respect of the enemy in their front.The struggles, intrigues, and prayers to get tickets weresuch as only English ladies will employ, in order to gainadmission to the society of the great of their own nation.

　　Jos and Mrs. O'Dowd, who were panting to be asked,strove in vain to procure tickets; but others of our friendswere more lucky. For instance, through the interest ofmy Lord Bareacres, and as a set-off for the dinner at therestaurateur's, George got a card for Captain and Mrs.Osborne; which circumstance greatly elated him. Dobbin,who was a friend of the General commanding the divisionin which their regiment was, came laughing oneday to Mrs. Osborne, and displayed a similar invitation,which made Jos envious, and George wonder how thedeuce he should be getting into society. Mr. and Mrs.Rawdon, finally, were of course invited; as became thefriends of a General commanding a cavalry brigade.

　　On the appointed night, George, having commandednew dresses and ornaments of all sorts for Amelia, droveto the famous ball, where his wife did not know a singlesoul. After looking about for Lady Bareacres, who cuthim, thinking the card was quite enough--and afterplacing Amelia on a bench, he left her to her owncogitations there, thinking, on his own part, that he hadbehaved very handsomely in getting her new clothes, andbringing her to the ball, where she was free to amuseherself as she liked. Her thoughts were not of thepleasantest, and nobody except honest Dobbin came todisturb them.

　　Whilst her appearance was an utter failure (as herhusband felt with a sort of rage), Mrs. Rawdon Crawley'sdebut was, on the contrary, very brilliant. She arrivedvery late. Her face was radiant; her dress perfection. Inthe midst of the great persons assembled, and the eye-glasses directed to her, Rebecca seemed to be as cooland collected as when she used to marshal Miss Pinkerton'slittle girls to church. Numbers of the men she knewalready, and the dandies thronged round her. As for theladies, it was whispered among them that Rawdon hadrun away with her from out of a convent, and that shewas a relation of the Montmorency family. She spokeFrench so perfectly that there might be some truth inthis report, and it was agreed that her manners werefine, and her air distingue. Fifty would-be partnersthronged round her at once, and pressed to have thehonour to dance with her. But she said she was engaged,and only going to dance very little; and made her way atonce to the place where Emmy sate quite unnoticed, anddismally unhappy. And so, to finish the poor child atonce, Mrs. Rawdon ran and greeted affectionately herdearest Amelia, and began forthwith to patronise her.She found fault with her friend's dress, and herhairdresser, and wondered how she could be so chaussee,and vowed that she must send her corsetiere the nextmorning. She vowed that it was a delightful ball; thatthere was everybody that every one knew, and only avery few nobodies in the whole room. It is a fact, thatin a fortnight, and after three dinners in general society,this young woman had got up the genteel jargon so well,that a native could not speak it better; and it was onlyfrom her French being so good, that you could know shewas not a born woman of fashion.

　　George, who had left Emmy on her bench on enteringthe ball-room, very soon found his way back whenRebecca was by her dear friend's side. Becky was justlecturing Mrs. Osborne upon the follies which herhusband was committing. "For God's sake, stop him fromgambling, my dear," she said, "or he will ruin himself.He and Rawdon are playing at cards every night, and youknow he is very poor, and Rawdon will win every shillingfrom him if he does not take care. Why don't you preventhim, you little careless creature? Why don't youcome to us of an evening, instead of moping at homewith that Captain Dobbin? I dare say he is tres aimable;but how could one love a man with feet of such size?Your husband's feet are darlings--Here he comes. Wherehave you been, wretch? Here is Emmy crying her eyesout for you. Are you coming to fetch me for the quadrille?"And she left her bouquet and shawl by Amelia'sside, and tripped off with George to dance. Women onlyknow how to wound so. There is a poison on the tips oftheir little shafts, which stings a thousand times morethan a man's blunter weapon. Our poor Emmy, who hadnever hated, never sneered all her life, was powerless inthe hands of her remorseless little enemy.

　　George danced with Rebecca twice or thrice--how manytimes Amelia scarcely knew. She sat quite unnoticed inher corner, except when Rawdon came up with somewords of clumsy conversation: and later in the evening,when Captain Dobbin made so bold as to bring herrefreshments and sit beside her. He did not like to ask herwhy she was so sad; but as a pretext for the tears whichwere filling in her eyes, she told him that Mrs. Crawleyhad alarmed her by telling her that George would go onplaying.

　　"It is curious, when a man is bent upon play, by whatclumsy rogues he will allow himself to be cheated,"Dobbin said; and Emmy said, "Indeed." She was thinking ofsomething else. It was not the loss of the money thatgrieved her.

　　At last George came back for Rebecca's shawl andflowers. She was going away. She did not evencondescend to come back and say good-bye to Amelia. Thepoor girl let her husband come and go without saying aword, and her head fell on her breast. Dobbin had beencalled away, and was whispering deep in conversationwith the General of the division, his friend, and had notseen this last parting. George went away then with thebouquet; but when he gave it to the owner, there lay anote, coiled like a snake among the flowers. Rebecca'seye caught it at once. She had been used to deal withnotes in early life. She put out her hand and took thenosegay. He saw by her eyes as they met, that she wasaware what she should find there. Her husband hurried heraway, still too intent upon his own thoughts, seemingly,to take note of any marks of recognition which mightpass between his friend and his wife. These were,however, but trifling. Rebecca gave George her hand with oneof her usual quick knowing glances, and made a curtseyand walked away. George bowed over the hand, saidnothing in reply to a remark of Crawley's, did not hear iteven, his brain was so throbbing with triumph andexcitement, and allowed them to go away without a word.

　　His wife saw the one part at least of the bouquet-scene.It was quite natural that George should come at Rebecca'srequest to get her her scarf and flowers: it was nomore than he had done twenty times before in the courseof the last few days; but now it was too much for her."William," she said, suddenly clinging to Dobbin, who wasnear her, "you've always been very kind to me--I'm--I'm not well. Take me home." She did not know she calledhim by his Christian name, as George was accustomed todo. He went away with her quickly. Her lodgings werehard by; and they threaded through the crowd without,where everything seemed to be more astir than even in theball-room within.

　　George had been angry twice or thrice at finding hiswife up on his return from the parties which hefrequented: so she went straight to bed now; but althoughshe did not sleep, and although the din and clatter, andthe galloping of horsemen were incessant, she never heardany of these noises, having quite other disturbances tokeep her awake.

　　Osborne meanwhile, wild with elation, went off to aplay-table, and began to bet frantically. He won repeatedly."Everything succeeds with me to-night," he said.But his luck at play even did not cure him of his restlessness,and he started up after awhile, pocketing his winnings,and went to a buffet, where he drank off manybumpers of wine.

　　Here, as he was rattling away to the people around,laughing loudly and wild with spirits, Dobbin found him.He had been to the card-tables to look there for hisfriend. Dobbin looked as pale and grave as his comradewas flushed and jovial.

　　''Hullo, Dob! Come and drink, old Dob! The Duke'swine is famous. Give me some more, you sir"; and heheld out a trembling glass for the liquor.

　　"Come out, George," said Dobbin, still gravely; "don'tdrink."

　　"Drink! there's nothing like it. Drink yourself, andlight up your lantern jaws, old boy. Here's to you."

　　Dobbin went up and whispered something to him, atwhich George, giving a start and a wild hurray, tossed offhis glass, clapped it on the table, and walked awayspeedily on his friend's arm. "The enemy has passed theSambre," William said, "and our left is already engaged.Come away. We are to march in three hours."

　　Away went George, his nerves quivering with excitementat the news so long looked for, so sudden when itcame. What were love and intrigue now? He thoughtabout a thousand things but these in his rapid walk to hisquarters--his past life and future chances--the fate whichmight be before him--the wife, the child perhaps, fromwhom unseen he might be about to part. Oh, how hewished that night's work undone! and that with a clearconscience at least he might say farewell to the tenderand guileless being by whose love he had set such littlestore!

　　He thought over his brief married life. In those fewweeks he had frightfully dissipated his little capital. Howwild and reckless he had been! Should any mischancebefall him: what was then left for her? How unworthy hewas of her. Why had he married her? He was not fit formarriage. Why had he disobeyed his father, who had beenalways so generous to him? Hope, remorse, ambition,tenderness, and selfish regret filled his heart. He satedown and wrote to his father, remembering what he hadsaid once before, when he was engaged to fight a duel.Dawn faintly streaked the sky as he closed this farewellletter. He sealed it, and kissed the superscription. Hethought how he had deserted that generous father, and ofthe thousand kindnesses which the stern old man haddone him.

　　He had looked into Amelia's bedroom when he entered;she lay quiet, and her eyes seemed closed, and hewas glad that she was asleep. On arriving at his quartersfrom the ball, he had found his regimental servant alreadymaking preparations for his departure: the manhad understood his signal to be still, and these arrangementswere very quickly and silently made. Should he goin and wake Amelia, he thought, or leave a note for herbrother to break the news of departure to her? He wentin to look at her once again.

　　She had been awake when he first entered her room,but had kept her eyes closed, so that even her wakefulnessshould not seem to reproach him. But when he hadreturned, so soon after herself, too, this timid little hearthad felt more at ease, and turning towards him as hestept softly out of the room, she had fallen into a lightsleep. George came in and looked at her again, enteringstill more softly. By the pale night-lamp he could see hersweet, pale face--the purple eyelids were fringed andclosed, and one round arm, smooth and white, lay outsideof the coverlet. Good God! how pure she was; howgentle, how tender, and how friendless! and he, howselfish, brutal, and black with crime! Heart-stained, andshame-stricken, he stood at the bed's foot, and looked atthe sleeping girl. How dared he--who was he, to pray forone so spotless! God bless her! God bless her! He came tothe bedside, and looked at the hand, the little soft hand,lying asleep; and he bent over the pillow noiselesslytowards the gentle pale face.

　　Two fair arms closed tenderly round his neck as hestooped down. "I am awake, George," the poor child said,with a sob fit to break the little heart that nestled soclosely by his own. She was awake, poor soul, and towhat? At that moment a bugle from the Place of Armsbegan sounding clearly, and was taken up through thetown; and amidst the drums of the infantry, and theshrill pipes of the Scotch, the whole city awoke.